


twenty dollars is twenty dollars

by thenerdgalaxy



Series: the cost of falling in love [1]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, M/M, Pining, Porn with Feelings, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-21
Updated: 2018-09-21
Packaged: 2019-07-15 04:45:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16055822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thenerdgalaxy/pseuds/thenerdgalaxy
Summary: Jack can't stop thinking about a certain straight boy. So, he teases him relentlessly. He figures that one day, maybe he'll at least be his friend, especially with how Mark teases right back. One day comes, however, and it's not exactly a friend that he gets. But hey, it's well worth the price of admission.





	twenty dollars is twenty dollars

**Author's Note:**

> so, fun fact: this fic was never meant to see the light of day. i mean it - i wrote it for a friend, because we like to randomly thrust aus in each other's directions (this one, specifically, came to be because of the picture of mark wearing a sweatshirt with "i'm not gay, but $20 is $20" on it, and now... here we are), and that was going to be that. but... then i figured, hey, why not? not sure if this will be a series or not, or even if i'll keep it posted - all depends on how y'all react. there's a lot of other shit written, as well as aus of this au, and if anything, it'll be a series instead of a multichapter fic, so... we'll see?

Jack doesn’t really have a good excuse for sitting in the bleachers, watching the band kids messing around at practice. Hell, he doesn’t even go to school events - so why is he here?

The answer is pretty simple - and stupid, among other things - but one he’d never admit to anyone: he’s got a crush on one of the trumpet players. Which is ridiculous, and dorky, and pretty damn gay, but there’s just something about Mark Fischbach that draws him in. So, he does idiotic shit like sit in the bleachers and heckle the players… but mostly Mark. Every single one of them ignores him, used to his crap by now, but somehow Mark still rises to it, which fills Jack with an odd sort of excitement.

“Yo Mark, what else that mouth do?” he taunts out when Mark is close to him, none of his other friends around at the moment. Mark rolls his eyes at him, like he always does, and flips him off.

Jack is a little shocked when Mark, expression purely neutral, says, “Almost anything for $20.” He just kinda sits there, face a little pale, and before he can find some casual way to ask if he actually means that, wasn’t just trying to get him to shut up, Mark is off again, playing the trumpet and joining his friends. Holy shit. It takes absolutely all of his willpower to not entertain the idea of actually being able to have Mark down on his knees, looking up at him with those pretty brown eyes…

Jesus.

He finally manages to resume his heckling after a few dazed minutes of fighting down the images that surface, but it’s half-hearted, his eyes often finding Mark’s in the group and derailing his thoughts and words so easily. Jack ends up leaving early, flipping them all off when they shout some heckles at him as he goes, but smiling to himself. He steps outside, letting the cool fall air clear his head a little. Honestly, he needs to stop this - he’s never been so obvious about a stupid crush before. It’s just that he cannot seem to get Mark out of his head. Sure, he wants to fuck and be fucked by the guy, but he also finds his mind drifting to simpler daydreams… Sweeter ones. Little pockets of happiness in the drama and angst of high school, like playing footsie under the table at a diner, or just sprawled out on bed, barely touching each other while they work on homework simply because it’s easier around each other, or being all teasing after going to see each other’s performances but still fully supportive.

It’s a nice fantasy. Too bad he’s kinda sure Mark’s straight, and that he might actually hate him. But it’s fine. He can keep him in his mind.

He’s still standing outside, thinking and cooling off, when the band kids are let out. He straightens up at the familiar sound of conversations and laughter, vague panic rising within him before he realizes how dumb he’s being. He leans back against the wall, pulling out a cigarette from the pack he keeps on him at all times, simply holding it between his fingers, unlit. Just so it seems like he had a reason to still be here, when he really, really doesn’t. Why  _ is _ he here?

As the students pass, some call out jeers and playful insults to him, and he just grins and flips them off with his free hand. They clear out pretty fast, and Jack decides to wait a few more minutes before leaving himself.

Before that self-set timer is up, however, Mark is leaving the gym, apparently the last one out. Jack almost chokes on his own spit, fighting his instinct to blush. The other boy's eyes land on him, and suddenly Jack wishes he had actually lit the cigarette, so he’d have something to do with his mouth.

“You're still here?” Mark asks, raising an eyebrow and crossing his arms, glancing over him. Jack scoffs, taking out the cigarette pack and tucking the stick back in, trying not to flush under the attention.

Stupid crush.

“Could ask you th’ same thing,” he replies, voice dripping with snark, Mark rolls his eyes.

“Actually, you can't, since I'm actually supposed to be here after school, and there's approximately a million and one reasons I could be out later than everyone else. You? Not so much.”

Jack shrugs, tucking his hands into his pockets, attempting to go for that “aloof and disinterested” aura. Mark just sighs, almost as if disappointed that Jack doesn't have a good comeback for him, and steps around him, heading toward the parking lot.

Jack… panics, a little, actually, not wanting to let the beautiful, sassy boy out of his sight so soon. “I've got that $20, if th’ offer stands,” he calls after him, plucking out the first thing that his brain provides him, and god, he wants to wham his head into the wall. He's joking, teasing, only pushing his buttons, of course - but he's also testing the waters. He knows, obviously, that it's not a real offer, but a man can dream, right?

Mark stops dead in his tracks at the words, not responding for the longest time, and Jack's anxiety spikes a bit before… “Seriously? How much of an asshole can you be?” he asks, turning around to look back at him. His expression is incredulous, but there's also… something else there, something Jack can't name.

“Ya talk a big game, pretty boy,” Jack replies with a smirk, unable to even really stop himself at that point. “Just wanting to see if y’d actually put y'r money where your mouth is.” It's a challenge, a taunt, one that he wants Mark to rise to, even if just to prolong this conversation.

Mark stares at him, eyebrows furrowed and expression mixed, seemingly debating something in his mind. “Show me the money,” he says finally, tucking his chin up, and Jack is a little stunned.

_ He's not actually…? _

He pulls out his wallet, unable to help feeling that this is just a weird game of one-upping each other, gay chicken, and produces a crisp $20 bill. “All yours f'r a good blowie,” Jack taunts, eyes falling to Mark's lips as he smirks more, despite the swirling emotions inside.

Mark regards him for a long moment, glancing between his face and the money. It's long enough to make Jack more nervous, sure that he's crossing a line in this taunting game - but then Mark steps closer, plucking the money from his hand. “Follow me.”

Jack blinks quickly, shocked as Mark strides past him, back into the gym, and what else could he do but follow? His heart pounds as Mark leads him into the supplies closet, then into a side room off of that. He's suddenly so unsteady, can't even comprehend that this might be happening - but then Mark is pushing him against the wall and getting to his knees, and oh god, what a fucking beautiful sight.

Mark undoes his pants, shoving them down to his knees, and Jack can only watch helplessly as he tugs down his boxers too, lips set in a determined line. Jack's already half-hard just from this chain of events, aching just from the anticipation of this, and this really has to be a joke, because this was all meant to be just another taunt. Mark presses a hand to Jack's bare hip, and the Irishman can't help a small moan, the contact zinging electricity through him. At the sound, Mark swallows hard, then leans in, only hesitating a second, and licks a stripe over the underside of his cock.

Jack moans louder, unable to help it, and thank god the school is clear by now, because he has serious doubts about his ability to keep quiet here. Mark's tongue laps over the head, then circles it, testing the waters, and Jack hisses softly, so sensitive. “Fuck,” he groans through his teeth, gripping at the wall as he tries to focus through the sudden dizziness in his mind. Then, suddenly, Mark's taking him into his mouth, and, more forcefully, Jack groans, “ _ Fuck _ !” One shaky hand reaches out to hesitantly press into Mark's hair, and when it's not shoved away, he presses a little firmer, fingers curling in those soft locks. “Mark, Mark,  _ Mark _ , jesus  _ fuck _ .”

After that, everything becomes a bit of a blur. Mark taking him in deeper, sucking softly, Jack trying so hard not to fuck into his mouth… He manages to keep from cumming too fast, but god, he still doesn't last long. Just the sight of Mark with his  _ cock _ in his  _ mouth _ would be more than enough to do him in, but then Mark is looking up at him - he’d had his eyes closed the whole time, until now - with those pretty brown eyes, chocolatey and intense, and his heart skips a beat and then he's cumming with a shout of Mark's name. The other boy almost pulls off, but seems to think better of it (maybe something about the mess? Jack has no clue, he's much too distracted) and takes it all in his mouth.

When Jack is finally finished, legs shaky and cheeks flushed, Mark pulls off. He winces a little, then swallows, and Jack licks his lips.

He wants…

He  _ wants _ .

Honestly, he was certain that the majority of his crush had to be just lust, that he just had to get it out of his system, and now he  _ really _ has, but… instead, he can just feel it getting worse, growing and intensifying.

“G-good, uh… good job,” he manages to get out, voice uneven, fingers subconsciously pressing more into his hair. Almost petting.

“Easy money,” Mark mutters, an odd expression on his face, like he can't believe he just did that.

Jack can't, either.

“You done that before?” he asks, unable to help the curiosity inside of him - and there's something else there too, burning and twisting inside him. Jealousy? He really hopes not.

“No, actually,” Mark replies a bit sharply, shooting him a look as he pulls away, letting Jack's hand fall back to his side. “I'm  _ straight _ .”

“Damn,” Jack replies, giving a small laugh, and he wants to make some snide comment about how he doesn't seem that straight to him, considering, but… He was Mark's first. And Mark was his. And his gut twists with something a little more pleasant at the knowledge. “Well, if ya ever want any more o’ that ‘ _ easy money _ ,’ ya know where to find me.” He pulls up his pants then, catching Mark's blush out of the corner of his eye.

He mutters something under his breath before getting up and leaving,  and the moment the door closes behind him, Jack gives a small laugh, unable to believe what just happened. What he hopes will happen again. There's a warm feeling blossoming in his chest, and hell, he just... wants whatever Mark is willing to give. Time, affection, conversations, and yeah, sure, blowjobs, but what teen boy doesn't want blowjobs? But he's falling hard for Mark, and it's a little bit terrifying, like a free fall, and he's sure that no one's going to catch him, but maybe that's okay.


End file.
